


This Is Home

by starbuck92



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Season premiere speculation at the time, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 02:43:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1841350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbuck92/pseuds/starbuck92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There must be at least a hundred people celebrating in the hangar bay, but only one of them matters to Bill Adama at this moment. He is oblivious to everyone and everything except the woman in his arms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [lisayaeger](http://lisayaeger.livejournal.com), who did the beta despite the fact that she's been very good about anything remotely spoilerly, and to [stargater](http://stargater.livejournal.com) for all her never-ending encouragement!
> 
> Disclaimer: They belong to the amazing Ron Moore, not me!
> 
> Originally posted at [starbuck92](http://starbuck92.livejournal.com) on October 6 2006.

  
The energy of the crowd is electric, waves and waves of joyous cheers crashing against Bill Adama as he is lifted on their shoulders, celebrating their admiral. Celebrating their savior. He smiles and laughs, reaching out to clasp the hands of old friends and strangers alike, grateful to see each and every one.  
  
He turns his head as another Raptor enters the hanger bay, the last if he's not mistaken, and an eager rush advances toward the ship. Elated shouts erupt through the crowd as the hatch opens, revealing the final group of survivors to return from New Caprica. People quickly climb out of the Raptor, some immediately finding the arms of loved ones once feared lost; others are content to embrace anyone and everyone in the immediate vicinity, thankful just to be alive.  
  
The two men parading him around on their shoulders gently lower him to the deck as the last of the passengers emerge from the back of the Raptor. Hoping against hope, Bill makes his way through the crowd, arriving at the foot of the hatch just in time to see his XO step off the ship. The sight of Saul's weathered and ravaged face stops him in his tracks, a moment of uncertainty coiling in his belly as he and old his friend stare at one another in disbelief.  
  
A sense of bone-deep weariness surrounds Saul Tigh, unfamiliar and unsolicited in the admiral's eyes. He could only guess what Saul and the Resistance had endured throughout the Cylon occupation, but the fact that they had survived was a testament to their bravery and refusal to bow down to their oppressors, an eternal strength to continue the fight. Slowly, he reaches up and clasps his friend's arm, an unconcealed mix of pride and affection evident on his face.  
  
"It's good to see you."  
  
Saul nods in response and ducks his head as Bill hauls him forward, and the last three months of hardship seem to disappear. The two men clap one another on the back before pulling away, exchanging warm smiles.  
  
"There's someone who's been waiting to see you," Saul says, a coy half-smile flashing across his face before he steps aside to reveal the only remaining occupant inside the Raptor.  
  
For a heartbeat, Bill Adama cannot remember how to breathe.  
  
Every sound and every sight in the hanger bay seems to fade away as his attention focuses on the one constant in his life, the real driving force behind his stubborn determination to return to New Caprica. During those dark days, he constantly appealed to his son and his officers that it was their duty to return to those they had left behind, but in the solitude of his quarters with only his emotions and feelings for company, he found he could not lie to himself.  
  
She was the reason he wanted - no, _needed_ \- to go back.  
  
The thought of needing Laura Roslin frightened him more than he cared to admit, but the idea of losing her scared him even more. Her counsel and her friendship had come to mean a great deal to him, but it wasn't until he was forced to abandon her on New Caprica, uncertain of her fate at the hands of the Cylons, that he realized just how important she had become to him. Fearing to tempt fate, he never dared to imagine this moment, of seeing her again so healthy and whole and safely wrapped in his arms.  
  
Bill blinks in surprise, exhales sharply, completely unaware he had been holding his breath in anticipation. He is not certain who made the first move, but it does not matter. She is here now, warm and soft, burying her face into his shoulder. His arms tighten around her slender waist beneath her jacket, drawing her closer against his body, and in return he feels her fingers dig deeper into the material of his uniform, almost clutching with desperation.  
  
She is trembling ever so faintly and there is moisture on his cheeks that he does not comprehend and he wishes they could stay like this for all eternity, just the two of them, tucked away from the rest of the entire frakked-up universe, and it all becomes too much for his battered spirit to bear as he gasps for breath and hangs on to her for dear life, his one constant, the other half of his soul. He squeezes his eyes shut in an effort to stem the tide, but the dam has been broken and the tears will not stop flowing now. They stream unchecked down his face as he turns and presses his lips to her temple, her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, thanking the gods he thought he no longer believed in for returning her to him safe and sound.  
  
Laura sniffles and smiles up at him, green eyes bright with tears of her own, and he decides she's never looked more beautiful than now. Keeping an arm securely wrapped around her, he raises the other to gently caress her tear-stained cheek, marveling at the velvet-soft skin beneath his callused fingertips, and his lips curl upward as she mirrors his position, her touch feather-light like a whisper of wind.  
  
There must be at least a hundred people celebrating in the hangar bay, but only one of them matters to Bill Adama at this moment. He is oblivious to everyone and everything except the woman in his arms. Closing his eyes, he leans his forehead against hers, feeling the soft puffs of breath from her lips mere millimeters from his, breathing in her familiar scent, almost hearing the serene, reassuring thump of her beating heart against his.  
  
This is home.  
  
End.


End file.
